


Selene

by sycamore



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Literature, Romance, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17918291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamore/pseuds/sycamore
Summary: Trainer Riley x ReaderImported from DeviantArt.





	Selene

**Author's Note:**

> Original story link: https://www.deviantart.com/polydeuce/art/selene-trainer-riley-x-reader-550677618

This is the worst thing you’ve ever had agreed to.

They told you it’d be fun. They said that your friends would be there, so you won’t be lonely. Well, both of those things turned out to be lies.

You’re leaning on a wall crested with silver and gold, wearing an off-the-shoulder dress. Not your usual attire. Your parents bought it because you needed to look the part for this annual anniversary ball.

It’s been nine years since Champion Cynthia received her title. This is the ninth ball held in her honour, and the only one you’ve ever come to. “So you can see what’s all the champion business is about,” your parents said, “and if you liked it enough, we can get you a reservation for her tenth anniversary.”

 _Not in a million years,_ you think to yourself.

So that’s how you ended up hiding in a hallway, avoiding the people having fun. Crowds are too much for you and make you nervous, and this seemed like the only solution. 

You feel fine just staying there for one more hour, tapping aimlessly away at your transceiver screen, when you hear a voice echoing from down the hall.

It’s a feminine voice, sounding elegant and quite tired; your thoughts go to Champion Cynthia immediately, and you bolt away to the opposite end.

You pass portraits of former champions, painted in acrylic and framed in ebony. When you pass the ninth one, you give a sigh of relief, turning the last corner of the hallway.

Except at the end is a door, not a stairway down to the ballroom like you had hoped for.

But there’s no time. You grab the handle and turn it, glad that it’s unlocked, and push through. You breathe heavily, collapsed against it, disappearing just in time as Cynthia turns to the hallway. Though, she stops—she stares at the door you went through for a moment, before turning back to her companion. 

When you catch your breath, you look up to see a stairway. Not a grand stairway like what everything else is in this mansion, but one that’s composed of metal, leading up to the ceiling.

You take hold of the railings cautiously, wondering where they’ll take you. So you climb them—since the only way to know is to find out for yourself—and by the thirteenth landing you’re breathless again. But there’s an unlocked door right next to the next stairwell, so you push that open, and immediately you’re hit by a cold wind.

 _So they lead to the roof,_ you think. You rub your arms as you make way to the edge of it, staring at the stars. This mansion is on top of a hill, shielded from the lights of the region, enabling you to see the cosmic clouding of the galaxy. You let out a gasp as you stare, mesmerised. Much better than that hallway.

Then you hear a _clang_ of metal railings, and you whip your head around to see a dark figure, walking up to you. Your first reaction is to step back in fear, immediately regretting the decision to come here.

But whoever it is stops, staring at you, lifting the brim of his hat in greeting. You puff your cheeks at him, a tad bit mad that he scared you.

“Good evening,” Riley says, a smile playing on his lips. He looks particularly smug, and you cross your arms, turning away from him.

“And you’re here because…?”

“The Champion gave me an invitation, of course.”

Well, of course he would be invited. As the owner of the Iron Island, he’s gained quite a reputation among elites already. But you meant why here, on the roof, instead of socialising with the masses. You ask him.

“The ballroom was stuffy, and it gave me a feeling of suffocation,” he explained. “This was the answer.”

You say nothing. Never have you expected that he felt the same anxiety as you do. You turn your gaze back to the stars, resting your hand on the railing.

He leans next to you, taking in the city skyline. The silence drags on, but he breaks it by asking: “And why are you here?”

“Same problem,” you answer.

Riley nods, a neutral expression on his face. It’s quiet again. “Where has my favourite Trainer been all these years?” he says, looking you up. “I suppose I’m quite lucky to see you at your best.”

You furrow your brow in fake anger. “Well, take a picture, since this is once in a lifetime.”

“Really?” his face softens. “Can I, really?”

“Riley, I’m kidding.”

He turns back to the skyline, shielding the disappointment on his face. 

You feel guilt fill through you immediately. “And I’m not a Trainer anymore. Well, I’m actually on hiatus until I feel better.”

“Hmm?” he arches an eyebrow. “What’s bringing you down?”

It’s suddenly more colder than before, and you rub your arms unconsciously. “I–I don’t know,” you murmur, hoping he won’t hear. “I’m just…sad all the time. There’s no reason. I just am.”

Riley takes a long time to reply that you think he started to ignore you. But no. “I’ve felt that way too—a few years ago.”

You press your lips together and nod. You’re more similar than you thought you were.

“It’ll get better,” he says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “I promise. I’m speaking from experience and the truth, from the bottom of my heart.”

He pulls you closer to him, and it feels warm and safe in his arms, like nothing could hurt you. You close your eyes, breathing in his scent. “What inspired you?” you ask silently. “What inspired you to go on?”

Riley looks up to the clear, cloudless sky, and breathes: “The moon.”

It’s full today, you realise, like it was fate that you met on the thirteenth floor on this particular night. For the first time in a while, you let a smile take over. 

And then he adds, “And you,” his gaze soft. “I’ve really missed you.”

The moonlight gives his face a haunting complexion, shimmering on his pale skin. And you let yourself think the thought you’ve suppressed completely as a Trainer, now that you don’t have your journey holding you back— _he’s completely beautiful._

You lightly place your fingers on his shoulder, and his breath hitches.

“Riley,” you whisper. He tucks his arm behind your waist, where it fits snugly, like he was made to be yours. His face is close, too close, and you can feel his breath resting on your skin.

There’s probably only a couple of centimetres between you now, and you shiver in anticipation. He brings his other hand to rest on your cheek—his touch feels electric, cold on your skin, and you want nothing more than him.

He just stares at you, rubbing his thumb on your face, so you take initiative. You lean in and push your lips to his soft ones.

His eyes widen, but he slowly kisses you back, pulling you closer to him. He parts his lips a bit, sucking the bottom of your skin—

Your transceiver then plays a loud ringtone, breaking the short distance between you apart. You take it from your purse, and the screen says it’s just turned to the twenty-third hour. Time to go home.

But you don’t want to go home, if that meant leaving him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> requested.
> 
> hi everyone! this is a bit late. i've been caged with duties, with school starting to turn rapidly again. i guess that's life, aha;;;
> 
> perhaps the sweetest story out of these ten days c:
> 
> i'm not sure about how i think about this, really;;; playing pearl/diamond, i didn't care about him at all. i cared about cynthia and cynthia only XD
> 
> thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed! ///
> 
> 4/10


End file.
